And this is going to be a long story because I wish to write a long story that I actually like. I've written some in the past and boy, were
they bad. Anyway, feedback is always welcome. 
Edit: I don't know why the spacing keeps screwing up on me but as soon as I found out how to fix it, I will.
Here And Now
Chapter 1 | Chris
It is the kind of day where he wants to be anywhere but there. He simply wants to slip into some type of machine and travel to the furthest vacation spot. California might be nice with the sunny weather and the tanned bodies that walk around in model physique. Or perhaps, the cool weather in NYC will be wonderful because the lights are flashy and the time is never ending. On second thought, a simple place like home sweet home would probably do the trick. However, no matter how many locations he can think of, Chris Kirkpatrick is stuck in a classroom filled with attitudes and tiresome faces. He wonders why and how he goes from mixing drinks as a bartender to teaching a class for the first time. It is all so brand new to him.
All the signs of nervousness are evident on the new Roosevelt High School teacher. His breathing is sporadic. His fingers are slightly shaking. It is more obvious when he picks up a piece of paper. And those legs are doing that terrible thing when he is in a comprising position, bouncing up and down faster than his heart ratebouncing upong position. They .
He gives a smile to the few late students. Some return the courtesy while others roll their eyes away from the friendly gesture. When the once vacant classroom fills to almost full capacity, he begins his well-rehearsed speech that he practiced all night long. However, the attention slowly slips from his hands. Realizing this, he stops short. A piercing pause annoys the young man so he begins to speak, even if it doesn't quite make that much sense.
"Umm…I know you do not like this. Hell, I know you don't feel like coming to class this early in the morning. You are probably thinking about that nice vacation, wishing for an extension. Believe me, I know."
He smirks hoping for the students to follow his lead. Some are listening attentively while others are half-heartedly doing so. In any case, Chris knows he has to at least give off a good impression. Clearing his throat, he tries to think of something else to say. Nothing registers. 'Go with the flow,' he tells himself to calm his nerves.
"I also know that you guys are wondering where the hell I am going with this. You see, I was a student just like you not that long ago. And I didn't fully appreciate nor understand the importance of education. I just simply came into class, act like a fool, and went home. I repeated this process for a long time until I met a stern teacher. His name was Mr. Pain in the Ass. Sorry, I hope no one minds pain in the a.s.s. If so, just tell me and I will keep it PG." Getting noticeably flustered for saying a curse word, his eyes widen hoping for everyone's approval of his language. After seeing some nods and hearing a few laughs with no objections, his demeanor changes from the once apprehensive child to a more self-assured man.
"Cool," he states more to himself than to the students, "Well, this teacher had this really bad odor. I mean the odor smelled like my uncle's armpits when he headlocks me. Horrible! And he had this small notebook. In fact, his whole body was small. I actually thought he was a midget."
The class's curious eyes rise from their once blank glares. A little more relaxed, Chris settles in his seat, continuing his story.
"But he had a strong presence. Despite his strange odor, he possessed an influential tone in his speech that made you listen. He would speak to you, not at you. And I hope to do the same for you guys. He actually convinced me on being a psychology major back when I was still in high school. I wasn't sure where to take my major. I never thought teaching would even be an option but here I am. This is a new experience for me so I hope you excuse some of my faults during the course of this class. I am going to try to provide the best education for y'all. In fact, I have the curriculum all typed up for you guys in a syllabus. Does anyone know what a syllabus is?"
His eyes naturally fall towards the back of the class where he sees a raised hand and a few sleeping students. Mr. Kirkpatrick points to the eager young man with the crooked nose and glasses. He requests for the student to state his name, where he is from and the answer to the question.
"My name is Thomas Morton. I am from Orlando, FL and a syllabus is a scheduled curriculum which is mapped out for us, the students, to see where the class is heading for the semester."
Happy that one student is willing to be apart of the class, he asks for Thomas to do one more favor for him-to pass out the syllabuses to everyone in the class.
"While Mr. Morton is doing that, I would like for each of you to introduce yourselves. I guess you guys should give your name, where you are from and one interesting detail about yourself. I think everyone is pretty new to one another so it's nice to start on one accord. Have a cum-ba-ya moment."
The comfortable setting seems to be enriched as each student share a piece of his or herself with everyone. He notices the typical jock types, the timid ones and the geeks. He also learns that Kelly Brockston is into roller skating, Anthony Kells wants to be the next football star in the NFL and Kimberly Stalen misses her hometown of New York. In the middle of the introductions, a fellow student interrupts the class.
"I'm sorry for being late. My alarm was set at the wrong time." That is Justin Timberlake-a student who appears to be another jock with a soft voice. Every physical characteristic is cherubic and cute. From the dark brown curls to the puppy dog blue eyes, he oozes out the term pretty boy. However, he does not appear to be the average 17 year old. His focus seems to be on more than just cars, chicks and dogs-a description that Chris uses a lot to describe the interest of all men.
"It's okay, man. Just next time come in twenty minutes earlier." Chris pats him on the back as the student makes his way over to the far right-hand corner. "Hey, since you made quite an entrance. Tell me more about yourself: what's your name, your hometown, and one interesting detail about yourself."
"Umm…well," the seemingly nervous teenager begins, "My name is Justin Timberlake. I am from Memphis, Tennessee and-"
"Hey that's where good ol' Elvis is from! That's awesome. Do you have any music in you?"
"Yes, I actually do. I sing. And I want to do that for a living."
Chris could hear muffle laughter and some mumbles after that last statement. Assuming that the students are making fun of the optimistic guy, he defends him. "That's great man. I'm glad there are still people out there who truly believe in their dreams. And if-I'm sorry-when you do make it, you know you have to write me in your liner notes, right?"
Justin smiles sheepishly, "Yeah I guess."
After everyone else states their short bios, the teacher decides to do his introduction. "Okay I guess I'll be the last one to introduce myself…again. Hello," he waves to everyone in front of him, "My name is Chris Kirkpatrick. You can call me Chris or Captain Kirk or C Dog. Just don't call me Mr. Kirkpatrick. That's just not my style. I am from a small town of Clarion, Pennsylvania. And one interesting fact about me is that I was homeless, growing up."
A collective gasp is recognized throughout the class. Not wanting to live in the dead silence, he continues, "Yup, I had no home whatsoever but I did have a wonderful family. They are the ones who help me be who I am today, psychologically. And yes, I may have a few screws loose. You'll see as the semester goes on. I am a little silly at times but I hope that none of you guys take my jokes as offensive. If so, just tell me and we can have a one on one conversation about it. Anyway, let me get to the meat of this whole first day thing. This class is going to be based on a simple concept-how psychology affects our everyday lives. All of us have reasons behind why we act the way we do. That's the basis of psychology. And in this class, we will explore that more while I, the teacher, will include some cool smart words for you to enjoy and pass on to your friends. Alright? Now, don't think there won't be tests, quizzes and papers. There will also be that too but I think you guys will actually enjoy them, especially the paper topics."
The clock seems to be the focal attention for most of the students. Realizing this, he decides to end the class rapidly. "Okay, I see it is time to go but before you go, I just want to tell you that this is a rare occasion. You don't have any homework today but don't expect this to be the norm. Anyway, have a wonderful day boys and girls and I can't wait to see you guys tomorrow morning!"
He smiles and says different variations of 'have a good day' to the students. Fiddling with his ink pen, he begins to worry about the next class. Chris desperately tries not to relive the jitters. He stumbles over words. He has to think way too hard about what to say first, next and last. Notwithstanding he just went through a class pretty well, he seeks every flaw, analyzing it. He is always a perfectionist when it comes to his job. It may not seem like it with his nonchalant demeanor but he picks every little detail and figures out a way to improve it. Sometimes, it drives him insane but lately, he has been working on how to just let things go.
A faint hi is spoken to him as his mind goes from every which-a-way to his student. Logically, he follows the voice to the face.
"Oh hey Justin, what's up man?" Chris pauses his pen tapping and tries to make the surprisingly shy student as comfortable as possible with his laid-back attitude. He wants the same for all his students-a sense of relief and comfort from all the stress of other classes. Granted, his daily homework will not help the situation that much but in such an environment, a person learns the most when he or she feels relaxed yet challenged. At least that's what Chris learned from that teacher who had the unpleasant odor.
Justin spots the teacher's abrupt ending to his pen dancing. Trying not to stare at his hands, he looks back and forth between Kirkpatrick and the papers on the desk. "I didn't get a syllabus. May I have one please?"
"Sure man," he hands him a copy happily, "Enjoy…it's a fun read really."
He grins a little, "Okay, whatever you say."
"I mean it." Chris shouts to him as he walks away.
